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Friday, April 25, 2008

Little Writer

Emma, my 9-year-old, has had rough year. Third grade is tough and she is bright, but a bit dreamy and creative, and would rather be outside playing than studying for exams. (Wouldn't we all?) Luckily, she has a very involved teacher, who has been careful to encourage Emma's natural abilities, along with trying to get her to work harder on the things that don't come as easy to her. This year, she chose Emma to attend the Young Author's Night—which is a program they send talented and gifted writers to in the Spring. Kids from Staunton, Waynesboro, and Augusta County are selected to go. It makes them feel so special. One author talks to them about her life and what it's like to be a writer. Emma came home so inspired that she started to work on a mystery novel.;-) AS to how I feel about my daughter perhaps following in my foot steps...well, let's just say that a mixed of of emotion that might be better left for another post.

Here is the story Emma wrote that got her into this event and the one she shared while she was there. (Okay I am bragging and I am using my blog to publish my own daughter's story, wouldn't you?)

Don't you want to know about when I got lost at the children's museum in Lynchburg? It was July 27, 2006. I finally got to the children's museum after one hour of waiting in the car. We finally got to the the children's museum in Lynchburg. I jumped out of the car and raced to the door. I pushed open the door and glanced at the inside playground.Soon after we got to the museum, my Dad asked me to climb all the way to the top floor, I said yes. So, I climbed to the last floor. I saw a tunnel through the playground. It was the only way to get to the next floor. So I went through and I got scared. Suddenly, my dress was caught on something so I turned around and saw a family. I screamed so loud that a lady who worked there heard me. She crawled in and found me. She grabbed me. She finally got me out of the terrible place. I looked behind me and saw a sign that said "tunnel of horror." I started to cry and asked the kind lady will I ever see my mommy and daddy again? Yes, she said. But it didn't sound like the lady. I looked up and saw my mommy.